[Training] H O R S E

If movin' on had a scoreboard, It'd say

She thought maybe this time she'd show up on his horizon, keep the scales balanced, keep him on his toes, or something like that is what she tells herself. Definitely not just because she wants to see him again, like memories aren't enough to last her so long any more.

Stepping into the Hanged Man always leaves a mildly disorienting effect, at first anyway, when going from daylight to the enchanted twilight feels like slipping into a dream. That'd be enough to tug the reminder of him even stronger, but all the recent changes the triplets have made to leave their mark on the bar only enhances the effect. Her gaze flicks across all the cosmic touches, a hint of a smile pulling on one side of her lips as she grabs a seat at the bar and starts to pull her skyship braid out of her hair. Shrugging out of her tan coat, she drapes it over the lap of her jeans and tilts her hat off to add it to the bundle. She rests her hands along the bar, boots crossed under the chair as she leans down to glance around for the barkeep and his characteristic glint of a grin.

Colt

You and your memory, one, me and this bar, none

Nova

Unfortunately for Colt, Vesper is out doing gods know what with gods know who, and Nova makes it a point not to know what he's up to nowadays, considering the answers usually make her want to gag. Even Caly isn't here, out negotiating with a new set of vendors while the bar is left in Nova's very questionable capable hands. 

The clientele is starting to adjust to the drastic shift in bartenders, knowing that when the colorful sibling is behind the bar, their drinks will be as sparkly as they are delicious (now that she's getting the hang of liquors and recipes and all that jazz). Even the beers wind up with some sort of glitter crusted lime on them, followed by a shimmering giggle as she leaves the table - not that they seem to mind anymore. The drinks are strong and the service is faster than the flutter of a hummingbird's wings. Throw in the fact that she likes a good barfight and manages to brighten the mood with a blinding smile, and people continue to fill the space on her siblings' off days. 

Today isn't too busy - only a few of the regulars tucked into corners in the early afternoon - so Nova entertains herself with doodles and sketches behind the bar, messing around with her creation magic to make rudimentary models of whatever she's designed. She's just made a very vague figure of a new hat with feathers and colorful prints when the door swings open. It draws her attention with all the excitement of a new customer to pester serve, her blonde and green curls bouncing around her face to accent the teal and lilac ombre of her dress. The silver hairpin her brother had gotten her is tucked into the strands so that the sparkling crescent moon can match the white stars and moon phases stitched into the fabric of her dress. 

Nova adjusts the long, billowy sleeves as the familiar woman approaches, bouncing to lean against the wood of the bar. "Colt, right? Your rodeo was so much fun! Were you looking for Vespy?" Her smile is bright and knowing, followed by a giggle that twinkles like the stars that form behind the eyes after a solid punch. "He's out right now, but can I get you a drink? I've been working on a new concoction! I call it 'Snap and Grab.' It's got ginger and apple flavors in it!" She could probably babble on, but Nova takes a small breath, tilting her head adorably in hopes Colt might be willing to give it a try.

It is impossible for light not to get noticed,
especially in the dark.
Light can devour the darkness
but darkness cannot consume the light

If movin' on had a scoreboard, It'd say

The bright bounce of the rainbow made mortal coming her way is, disappointingly, not the triplet she'd been here for. That said, there's no denying the way Nova brightens up every room she comes into, with a joy too infectious to resist. "Well now, if it ain't the buckin' bronc star herself," Colt greets warmly, nodding as Nova gets her name right. A smile stretches out in response to Nova's own, growing a touch wider as the giggle floats by, guilty as charged.

Maybe if she better understood the risk that comes with one of Nova's drinks, she would have found a polite way to decline, but as it stands she sure as shit didn't come all the way to a bar not to have a drink, handsome man be damned. "Can't say that doesn't sound good," Colt drawls warmly, leaning onto her hands as she props them up under her chin. "I usually go sour though, and don't drink much besides tequila." She's tried all kinds of assorted drinks, and truthfully can't manage most without making a face, with rum and whiskey being the absolute worst.

There's a certain shine to Nova though that makes her give in to the idea of getting snatched and grabbed, despite her better judgement. "Let's try it, but only if you'll drink with me," she winks. Today is not the sort of day for drinking alone.

Colt

You and your memory, one, me and this bar, none

Nova

Doing a little spin so that her dress flares out, Nova basks in the appropriate level of praise and attention. "In the flesh!" She giggles again, propping herself back against the bar as the talk turns to drinks. Her head tilts, endearing and just as sweet as her cocktails are. "I like sour when it has sugar to go with it!" And lots of it. "Maybe I'll come up with something for you to try next time." The wink she throws says she knows there will definitely be a 'next time' as she already begins to plot what sort of tangy concoction she can make up for the cowgirl. 

But when Colt's agreeing with the condition of her own participation, Nova's more than happy to oblige. "Sure! I think they're pretty good!" And then she's gathering the ingredients, not bothering with measuring devices when she chooses to measure with her heart. She quickly mixes the vodka, ginger liqueur, apple cider, and spiced simple syrup in two chilled glasses coated with sparkly cinnamon sugar rims and garnished with an apple slice. With a final flourish of edible gold glitter mixed into the drink, Nova places it on the bar top for Colt, a beaming smile on her face. "Here you go! One 'Snap and Grab'! Tell me what you think!" And the look in her eyes says she expects only positive feedback as she takes a sip of her own.

It is impossible for light not to get noticed,
especially in the dark.
Light can devour the darkness
but darkness cannot consume the light

If movin' on had a scoreboard, It'd say

Colt doesn't miss the way the words next time slip in, and a smirk settles in response. "Can't wait to try it," she murmurs, sealing the deal. As for the concoction being brewed now though, Colt's head presses heavier on her hands as her gaze follows Nova, trying to keep track of the ingredients. One 'brow lifts at one point as she watches a rather heavy pour make its way in, not that she's complaining.

At its completion, Colt reaches across to take it, swiping up a bit of the cinnamon sugar crystals as she sips experimentally. The ginger and the spices give a mild kick on her tongue, but they're smoothed out with the apple cider and the sweetness of the sugar, overall making it an easy drink, even for her. Her gaze cuts over the glass towards Nova as she tilts it down, smacking her lips against a lingering droplet. "Shit honey, you better put that one on the menu, that's good." She takes another, deeper pull of it this time, contented by the warm coil the liquor makes as it winds down her.

Before she goes entirely fuzzy today, Colt's gaze sharpens into an idea as she regards the sparkling bartender. "Say, ya'll got a dartboard in here?" Colt reaches back and fishes a pocket knife out of her back pocket, laying it on the bar top. "What do you say to a game of darts, but with knives?" Colt's not particularly skilled with knives, has always preferred to keep her distance if she ever winds up in a fight, but it sure seems more useful to try flinging steel than balloon-poppers. "To make it extra fun, we can play it HORSE style. So you throw the dagger in some unique way and I gotta match it. If I don't, I get a letter and have to drink. If I do, then you have to try and copy my throw and avoid getting a letter. Whoever spells HORSE first loses." She tilts her head, smile easy with the challenge of fun.

Colt

You and your memory, one, me and this bar, none

Nova

Nova lets out another crystalline giggle, enjoying the approval of her new drink. "Thanks! Maybe it will be one of our specials for the season." She plans to make Vespy and Caly try it, using her charm and fluttering lashes to get them to say yes. Even though she's growing more confident in her ability to make delicious drinks, she likes to hear it from them first, knowing they won't sugar-coat it (wink wink).

The flash of something akin to mischief in Colt's eyes draws her in as she leans against the counter, taking a large sip of her drink before she's beaming at the question. "We do!" She points to a dartboard hung in a dark corner of the room, obviously neglected despite the glittery rainbow panels. Nova's never thrown knives before, but like all things, she is under the incorrect assumption that it will be easy and she'll immediately excel at it. At Colt's suggestion and subsequent instructions (that Nova only barely pays attention to), her head nods enthusiastically, already making her way around the bar with her drink dangling in her fingers. "Sounds like fun! Although why 'HORSE'? Can't it be something funner? Why not 'GLITTER' or 'SPARKLE'?" Because let's be honest, everyone loves those words.

It is impossible for light not to get noticed,
especially in the dark.
Light can devour the darkness
but darkness cannot consume the light

If movin' on had a scoreboard, It'd say

Her eye follows the line Nova points to the rather sad looking dartboard left in the corner like some artifact they each couldn't decide what to do with, so chose to ignore. Admittedly, plenty of dartboards in other bars have looked exactly the same, although none that she recalls have had a rainbow shimmering across them.

"Perfect!" she says with a clap of her hands as she slides off the stool, leaving her jacket and hat in it's place while she swipes up her drink and knife. She takes another sip, the bite of the alcohol building more, a reminder of the liberal measuring Nova had done. She follows after Nova with a grin, always happy to turn something into a bit of reckless fun if it can be had. "Best of both worlds, GLITTER HORSE?" she suggests, one 'brow lifted as she awaits approval. "Speaking of," she drawls with newfound mischief, a sly glance cut sidelong at Nova as Colt places her drink somewhere nearby. "Y'know they make glitter for horse hooves. People do it all the time for a show. Betcha Vesper could use some next time."

Well, this is what he gets for being out.

"Alright," she says with a bit more seriousness as she holds her knife out for them both to see, flicking the blade point out. "I did get lessons once from this old guy at a pub. He told me, pinch the balance point between your fingers, blade side up, and as you tilt it back you aim where it'll release from your hand when it's extended." Colt does a few fake motions to demonstrate, and to warm up, before handing over the knife, hilt-first to Nova. "Rodeo star throws first," she crowns her.

Colt

You and your memory, one, me and this bar, none

Nova

She might not have gotten all of the game's rules, but she's pretty sure it ends when the person spells the word, and 'GLITTER HORSE' has a lot of letters, making her laugh. "Won't that take forever?" As long as none of the customers mind their bartender being otherwise occupied or getting too drunk to stand, Nova's not opposed to the idea. 

Although Colt's next suggesting is one that she knows she approves of. Giggling, she sets down her drink to clap her hands together, spinning around again. "Oooh. I like that idea! I'd already been planning to braid sparkly threads into his mane and paint glittery stars on his flank, but I'll add that to the list." And if Vesper isn't a blinding display of glittery light by the end, she'll have considered it a failure. More than excited for another opportunity to show off, she adds, "Do you think you'll do another rodeo soon?"

Full of misplaced confidence and optimism, Nova takes the knife from Colt in the grip she'd shown her. "My pleasure!" She squares up with the dartboard in a tiny flurry of sparkles, her tongue sticking out as she concentrates on the center before lobbing the knife at the board. As expected by everyone except Nova, the handle knocks against the wood and falls to the ground with a disappointing thud. 

She pauses, looking at the fallen blade with an adorable expression of disappointment in the weapon. "I think your knife is broken."

It is impossible for light not to get noticed,
especially in the dark.
Light can devour the darkness
but darkness cannot consume the light

If movin' on had a scoreboard, It'd say

"Normally," she shrugs, implying she's got time, but she isn't the one currently tending a bar. "We can spin it to our style though, you keep earning letters until you get the shot, or you forfeit the attempt and gotta take a double shot." If it sounds like Colt is just making shit up now, then yes.

Nova's enthusiasm earns a bout of laughter, the idea of Vesper glittering from head to tail while being both entirely unhappy and committed to permitting it too rich to pass up. One day she might find where he draws the line, but she's positive that shining streamers braided in his mane, a sparkling tattoo pasted to his flank, and dazzling hooves would not be it. "If you wanna get real fancy," Colt continues with no lack of delight, "some people shave designs into their hair so it really stands out and lasts. Like a star or a heart on their flank." Even better, that one would probably translate over when he shifts back, leaving some mark in his body hair.

Nova's next question draws a thoughtful hum from Colt, a finger tapping her chin for a moment. "Maybe, but probably not until next year. It's a lot of work." She's still cleaning up popcorn wrappers, although at this point she blames the dogs and the rats. "You're always welcome to come by and ride though," she offers, straightening back up as they turn to the blade. "Y'know, get in some practice so you'll be unstoppable," she winks.

Colt watches as the knife sails across the room with a hopeful arc at first, but it lands wrong side into the board and clatters to the floor. "Maybe its your board," Colt suggests with a laugh as she retrieves the blade and squares up for a throw. "Oh," she says suddenly, seeming to remember and swipes her hand over one of the nearby booths, gathering glitter remnants on her palm. She flicks her hand out to send some shining to the side before sticking her tongue out and lining up her shot, which also bounces handle first. It's unclear if she's matching Nova or just also failing, but she calls out "I'm gonna count that as a win!" as she gathers the knife once more.

Back in place, she tilts the blade in her hand, then hops onto one foot and flings it at the board. It lands, barely, vibrating near one of the bottom corners which isn't even technically in any of the rings.

---

1/4

Colt

You and your memory, one, me and this bar, none

Nova

Shrugging her shoulders - mainly because she doesn't get it - Nova accepts Colt's random rules, ready to learn along the way. 

Mentions of a shiny, prancing Vesper are much more interesting anyways, and she beams at the next suggestion. "That sounds so cool! I might have to catch him while he's sleeping for that one... he's pretty protective of his hair..." She mutters the last part, chaos wheels already spinning behind her eyes as she props her elbow and taps a thoughtful finger to her lips. For the fashion and the look, she's more than willing to cause a little mischief. Unfortunately for Colt, Vesper with know exactly where the idea originated. 

But without the prospect of a rodeo anytime soon - much to her disappointment - she considers Colt's other offer. Most people who have trained or worked with Nova know that she hates the word 'practice.' It makes her think of long, grueling hours that people who aren't already good at something have to do, and since she's naturally good at everything, she's excluded from such mundane activities. "'Practice' is boring, but maybe I'll come play with your horses some time - if Vespy's too busy."

A small pout comes to her face at the accusation that it's her board that's the problem. She deadpans, inspecting the glittering rainbow panels. "No. I've seen people use it before and it works just fine." But then Colt's landing the exact same hit she did, and her eyes blink. Still a little confused on the rules, Nova's face pinches adorably, her head tilting like a curious cat. "Does that mean I have to take a drink? And do you get a letter or something?" And had there been mention of shots? She's not sure. 

Whatever the case, it's apparently her turn now. Wondering if the point is to match all aspects of the throw, Nova retrieves the knife and tries her best to remember every movement Colt had made. Her hand shifts to tilt the blade before she leans forward to hop on one leg, then releases the knife towards the board. It hits on the long part of the blade this time, surprisingly close to where Colt's had struck - but still falling to the ground. 

Nova's eyes narrow, her arms coming up to cross in obvious annoyance. "I don't think I like this game."

It is impossible for light not to get noticed,
especially in the dark.
Light can devour the darkness
but darkness cannot consume the light

If movin' on had a scoreboard, It'd say

The idea that practice and play can't be the same thing doesn't earn much Colt from other than a  slight arch to one 'brow. To her, you end up practicing whether you mean to—hell every day she practices at living, because nothing ever manages to be quite the same, or simple. Play might be a little more intentional, but it's one she can fully support, if her longwinded rules are any indicator.

Colt laughs a little bit as Nova continues the (obvious) joke that it's not them who are the broken ones here. "No-Pe," she accentuates the p, flicking an eye to Nova after the success of her throw. "I'm all for drinking, so I won't stop you, but you only have to drink when you get a letter, and you only get a letter when you can't match a throw."

Colt is about to let loose a teasing breath, some good natured ribbing, but wisely clamps it behind her teeth when Nova instead gathers up like a little storm cloud. Ah, one of the ones that only has fun when she's winnin'. Given her success at the rodeo, Colt hadn't had a chance to see her fail yet, and thus far she'd been nothing more than a rainbow, but those are usually most visible on the edge of rain.

Colt steps forward slowly, keeping a mental note that Nova has just earned a G in the game of GLITTER HORSE, but decides now is not the time to announce it. Instead she drawls out with slow, nonchalant absence, like she's talking to the board and not Nova, "Yknow... if you ride, you're gonna get bucked off." Not a matter of if, just when. Doesn't really matter what you're riding either, though she expects given who she is, Nova will take Colt to be literal and make some remark about there not being a horse here right now. Still, Colt continues, grabbing the knife from the ground and spinning it in her hand. "And it ain't fun, so when that happens, a lot of people choose never to ride again." She shrugs. "The ones who get back on though, the ones who cowgirl up? They start staying on no matter how rank it gets." She glances up at Nova, a knowing look set on her before Colt strides lazily back to the table with her drink, their throwing line. Practice, in a different package.

"If you only ever ride the broke, easy ones, or if you never get back on when you kiss dirt, you'll never know just what you can manage to stay seated on." Colt measures up her throw again and flicks it, no flourish this time. "If you're willing to find out though, I bet it'll surprise you what stops shaking you off." The blade sticks in the board on the edge of the outer ring, a testament to luck most likely rather than skill.

She glances at Nova, a smile slipping back easy. "Your throw."

---

2/4

Nova: G
Colt: -

Colt

You and your memory, one, me and this bar, none

Nova

After hearing the rules again, Nova thinks she gets it, and she gives a bouncing nod of her head. "Okay! That makes sense!" And although she doesn't have to take a drink, she turns to draw a long sip of her cocktail before failing at her next throw. 

Colt's profound and wise words are completely lost on the young hybrid, who has no idea why she's bringing this up in their game. It doesn't help that the rancher is slightly wrong in her assumptions about Nova. Sure, the girl hates to lose, and she certainly doesn't enjoy when she's not the star, but that doesn't mean she gives up. If anything, she tries harder, finding new methods or means to succeed in order to prove people wrong. And Nova will always pick the unbroken stallion over the tame, boring mare. 

It's why she stares blankly at Colt, blinking a few times before letting out a giggle. "You're weird." Then she spins to retrieve the knife from the board, moving back to the throwing line.

In tell-tale Nova fashion, she relies on her magic to solve her problems. Setting the knife on the table, she forms an ice replica in her hand before flicking a finger to send it flying at the board. It lands in nearly the same exact spot, imbedding into the dartboard with a satisfying thunk that has her grinning at Colt. "That's much better. See? It was definitely your knife."

It is impossible for light not to get noticed,
especially in the dark.
Light can devour the darkness
but darkness cannot consume the light

If movin' on had a scoreboard, It'd say

An honest laugh cracks from Colt as after all of that, Nova just surmises that she's weird, which is probably the first time she's even been called such. Being full of surprises apparently is a family trait. The humor fades into quiet observation as Nova resumes the game, quietly glad that she didn't lose her throwing partner over two whiffs.

Her gaze widens as a frozen blade emerges in the girl's palm, her mouth following suit as it then lances neatly into the board. There's a moment of stunned silence before a grin spreads wide and Colt claps in open appreciation, letting out a whoop of celebration. "Shit, I guess so," she laughs. "Your turn to make a throw for me to match," she says after a moment, grabbing her knife and drink in hand each. Although no one earns any letters and she doesn't have to drink, she takes a long pull as she watches what she'll need to mimic next.

Colt

You and your memory, one, me and this bar, none

Nova

More than a little proud of her magic display, Nova's grin is brighter than a cluster of shooting stars. It might not be conventional (and maybe even cheating), but it's her, and Colt's clapping has her offering a small bow with a flourish of arms and glittering sparkles. 

Straightening, she looks at the board to pull the ice blade back into her hands. It's so natural that she feels like she's guiding it through the air with her own fingers, so much different than when she'd sparred with Jack all those months ago. It just goes to show that she doesn't need practice. 

At Colt's instructions, Nova flicks a strand of green hair and snowflakes from her face. "Okay! Watch this!" She throws the icy blade through the air, pushing it directly into the center of the dartboard before giving a small giggle of delight and spinning around to take another sip from her drink.

It is impossible for light not to get noticed,
especially in the dark.
Light can devour the darkness
but darkness cannot consume the light